Army Group Commander!

"It is a pleasure to see you, Miss Meliye." Karen took the initiative to extend his hand. Meliye offered a professional smile, shook hands graciously, and then took two paces back to bow respectfully. "Greetings, Lord Legion Commander." "Please, have a seat." "Thank you, my Lord." Meliye was formerly the *Order Weekly* correspondent stationed in Yorktown. She had since been promoted and was now deputy director of the *Order Weekly* press office for the Yorktown Region. Back when Karen had driven the hearse carrying Ashley, Blanche, and the others to take part in the final selection for entering the Door of Reincarnation, she had been the one who interviewed them. Later, over the course of their careers, they had collaborated on many occasions. She possessed a fine, rather voluptuous figure, and wore thick black spectacles. She cut the classic figure of a strict school disciplinarian turned reporter—stern and rigorous, yet radiating a frosty, restrained aesthetic characteristic of her profession. She had come all the way from the logistical supply base in the deep rear, crossing the Chia Grand Canyon and venturing deep behind the lines to locate the legion. Moreover, she had not asked for any armed escort, simply hiring a guide and bringing three assistants along. This was an active war zone, after all, and roving bands of routed enemy remnants were everywhere. Accidents could easily happen, and Karen could not help admiring her courage. Having already reached the position of deputy director of the newspaper's regional bureau, to still put everything aside and return to the front line as a war correspondent out of pure dedication was inherently worthy of respect. "You must be exhausted from your journey," Karen said with a smile. "I hope you didn't run into any trouble on the way." "No, not at all, my Lord. We only had to travel. The enemies along the route had already been routed by your legion." Karen nodded. "I am very glad to accept your interview, but my time is limited, so I hope we can keep the personal portion as efficient as possible. Beyond that, I would prefer that you journalists focus your lenses on the ordinary soldiers of my legion—to listen to and report their voices." "Of course. As for your coverage, I will submit the draft for your review once it is written. If you have any relevant manuscripts to share with me as references, I would be immensely grateful. Having read many of the essays you published in internal journals, there were times I wondered whether you were actually more professional than I am." After Karen was promoted to regional director, he had spent a considerable amount of time behind an office desk. Aside from pulling strings to clear obstacles for Alfred's reforms, his daily routine consisted of publishing one article after another in the church's various internal journals. Meliye had evaluated that series of articles from her professional perspective. Not only were the contents thorough, the arguments lucid, and the logic airtight, but every single piece struck the exact ideological chord and caught the prevailing wind perfectly. Even for a professional journalist, maintaining such a steady, high-output production of that caliber of writing was exceedingly difficult. "I do happen to have two completed drafts here. I'll have someone deliver them to you shortly." "Thank you, my Lord. In that case, I won't delay your military duties. Could I take a few photographs right now to use for the article's cover?" "Certainly, that's no problem. We can do it right here." Karen gestured toward where he was sitting. A great stack of books rested on the desk. They had all been prepared by his fiancée before the campaign; at the time, Karen had joked that they would come in handy when reporters wanted photographs, and now they were indeed serving that purpose. Meliye smiled and said, "I originally imagined you would stand atop the bone dragon for the picture. I have always longed to see that sight with my own eyes." "I think here is better." "Yes, you are quite right. I feel the same way now." Meliye signaled her assistant to hurry up and take out the camera. Karen remained seated behind the desk, casually picking up a military dispatch to review as a prop. *Click... click... click...* The shutter clicked in rapid succession. The church's rigid hierarchy and the specific conditions within the military had not deliberately fostered stereotypes, but under all those preconditions, a uniform image had long since been established. A legion commander was supposed to be like Daan—clad in armor, meticulous, and exuding an aura of resolute, sweeping authority. Yet the presence Karen projected was something Meliye could not immediately capture with any conventional phrase. Elements that seemed contradictory and discordant came together to form an exquisitely harmonious whole. If Alfred had been there, he would have instantly found the precise word: *cultured refinement*. One could only say that it stemmed from a specific cultural background where such a commander's demeanor was held in the highest esteem. Yet even across different cultural backgrounds, the perception and appreciation of beauty remained identical. Meliye could not help marveling inwardly. Once this photograph appeared in the paper, it would undoubtedly trigger another frenzy of newspaper clipping. At present, Karen's popularity among the church's younger generation was already towering. With the compounding effect of his unbroken string of victories as a legion commander, that popularity would only surge higher. Those who admired his handsome looks, those who admired his record, those who admired his politically unimpeachable background within the Church of Order, those who admired his disposition... No matter what one favored, it could be found in this legion commander. In fact, Karen had plenty of admirers not just within the Church of Order, but among outside churches as well. Even if they stood on opposing sides as enemies, it did not diminish their admiration. Indeed, precisely because they were enemies, that admiration and emotion grew all the deeper. Dalwenro was a prime example. This phenomenon had alarmed thinkers in outside denominations, prompting essays such as *Beware the Church of Order's 'Deification Campaign'*, which argued that "Karen" was an image manufactured by the Church of Order to facilitate the ideological export of Order's doctrine. Normally, waging wars of words between the flagship publications of major churches was practically part of the job description. Yet *Order Weekly* had mounted no prompt or effective counterattack against this "slander." The reason was that they simply did not know how to counter it... They were even thrown into self-doubt: *Wait, are we really that incredible, capable of 'artificially manufacturing' a regional director and legion commander?* Meanwhile, those "warning articles" failed to produce the desired effect among outside faiths. Instead, they prompted people who had previously paid no attention to "Karen" to begin studying him, inadvertently driving his popularity higher still. Once the photography concluded, Meliye prepared to take her leave. Her primary task next would be interviewing the rank-and-file soldiers. Before departing, however, she hesitated, then took the initiative to speak: "Lord Legion Commander, I have a suggestion..." "Please, go ahead." "Regarding your public image and current popularity, I believe it is necessary to manage and cultivate them deliberately. While I cannot say how much immediate benefit this holds for you right now, I am confident that in the long run, it will grant you tremendous assistance in the future." "Thank you for the advice, but I would prefer to see a written operational proposal." Meliye froze. When she offered the suggestion, she had anticipated Karen responding with refusal, deferral, or a comment like "now is not the time to consider such matters"... She truly had not expected Karen to validate her idea—and from the sound of it, he even wanted to pursue further cooperation. A journalist's keen instincts made her grasp the opportunity without hesitation. She spoke immediately: "I will submit a proposal to you right away. I am confident I can coordinate with you to execute everything flawlessly." "However, that does not seem to fall under your official duties, Miss Meliye." "But, I..." For a moment, Meliye could not grasp what Karen meant. "If it proves feasible, would you be interested in transferring to our regional propaganda department?" Meliye's mouth fell open in pleasant surprise. *Order Weekly* was a relatively independent system, but from the perspective of career advancement, entering the regional administrative apparatus was far superior. And the reforms currently underway in the Yorktown Region effectively granted Karen the authority to reorganize every department within the region. "It would be my honor to serve you, my Lord Commander." Meliye bowed to Karen once more. This time, her aloof, restrained demeanor was completely overwhelmed by a flush of sheer ecstasy. Her breathing turned tight and rapid, and her eyes were ablaze with ambition. Karen smiled and nodded. Her heart racing with excitement, Meliye led her assistants out of the command tent. In truth, Karen knew that under the Whip-Wielder's deliberate promotion, the publicity machine had been pushing his profile hard lately. But those efforts were aimed at his peers and the echelons above them—the traditional "upper circles." What Meliye spoke of was cultivating an image for the lower strata, primarily among the youth. Back when Karen was a squad captain under the Disciplinary Inspection Commission office, he had deliberately crafted and publicized his image to pursue promotion. Later, to shed labels like "too young" and "lacking gravitas," he had deliberately kept a low profile for a long time. War, however... was the most direct mechanism for smashing established rules and achieving rapid accumulation and social elevation. Facing different periods and circumstances, one naturally had to adopt different strategies. Unless he suffered consecutive defeats from here on out, squandering all his capital, once he returned to report on his commission, he would certainly have a seat on the dais at the next grand assembly of the Whip of Order. Even if it were merely a corner seat, it would be an entirely different world from sitting down below. And once one reached that level, favor and promotion from superiors would lose much of their previous potency. As the saying went, "one's wings were fully fledged"; one had to rely on one's own foundation and accumulated weight to contend. Thus, although building a public persona was a high-risk endeavor—reaping the dividends meant risking severe backlash if it shattered—Karen's "time was running short." He no longer cared about future backlashes; his priority was seizing everything he could lay his hands on first. With the brief interview concluded, Karen entered the war room, where Neo and Muri were already waiting. Having completed their mop-up and recuperation, the legion had drawn back to their original line, preparing to assist friendly forces within the army group in breaking through their target strongholds. Muri spoke up: "Legion Commander, a dispatch has arrived from the enemy positions ahead. They wish to surrender to our forces." The enemy stronghold in this sector was currently pinned between the Whip of Order Legion and the 12th Regular Regiment, its supply lines severed. Its situation was dire. Though Pilger had bruised his head repeatedly against it, the combat power of a regular regiment was nothing to dismiss. Even if Karen had not led his legion back to reinforce the area, Pilger would likely have smashed it open after a few more head-on assaults. Karen studied the map and remarked, "They're intentionally stalling for time, aren't they?" Neo raised an eyebrow in surprise, accompanied by a mixture of delight, wistfulness, and a hint of gloom. It was a full performance of a father's bittersweet emotions upon seeing his son grow up. Karen traced his finger across the map. "They are buying time for the garrisons of the other three strongholds to withdraw. Once those forces begin their retreat, our deployment will be thrown into disarray, giving the defenders before us a window to break out and relocate." The garrisons in the other three strongholds were facing the Order militia regiments. Those three militia units had performed poorly; as the attacking force, they had actually been pushed into passive defense by enemy counterattacks from the strongholds. Karen glanced at Neo. "That is also why you chose to pull back and support this sector—to give the enemy forces in those three strongholds more room to pull out. Once they leave their defensive fortifications, we can find an opportunity to devour them in a war of movement." As Karen spoke, his gaze remained fixed on the map. He possessed a photographic memory, and at this moment, dispatches were flipping through his mind like open pages. "We only need to keep a close watch on the enemy's logistics and relief forces to deduce their gathering point following the withdrawal. Then, right there, we wipe them out." Low on supplies, stripped of their fortified positions, and exhausted from a long-distance retreat... to a hunter's eyes, such an enemy force was the most tender, succulent prey imaginable. A large part of the Whip of Order Legion's massive earlier success had stemmed from the inside assistance of their spies and traitors. By the same token, the enemy lines were just as vulnerable to penetration by Order—and the allied forces were far easier and more convenient to infiltrate. Next, it would be up to their colleagues in the intelligence apparatus to perform. Simply sniffing out logistical movements was not particularly difficult, especially since Karen commanded the Whip of Order's intelligence apparatus and possessed the full authority to order them to prioritize this assignment. "Sigh," Neo let out a sigh. "Karen, you've grown up." "Heh." "Sigh, I'm feeling less and less relevant by the day." Karen shook his head. "If I undergo 'God's Shepherd' in the middle of our next battle, you'll still have to take command." "Oh, thank you very much. I'll be sure to stock up on heart medicine in advance." Karen turned to Muri. "You take charge of liaising with the enemy regarding their surrender. Keep up the act with them and lure them out." "Understood, Legion Commander!" Immediately after, Karen turned back to Neo. "Now we're back to waiting. It's a nice window of free time. So, care for a spar?" "Heh, I haven't lost my mind." "I need to familiarize myself with my current realm and strength." "What does that have to do with me?" "I am asking you for this favor." "Damn it! Can you give it a rest?" "Shall we?" "Go call Ventura, or call Philomena." "I'm afraid of breaking them." "Then call Richard." "Where's the challenge in that?" "Heh." "So, you don't have the confidence to challenge me back once you raise your realm in the future? If that's the case, I won't accept your invitations to spar later on either." "Oh, what a cheap provocation!" "Well?" "Let's go!" ... "Honestly, are the two of you childish or what? What kind of time and place is this to sneak off and pick a fight?" Purr sat atop Little Kanna's head, casting a disdainful glare over Karen and Neo. A spar could hardly be held inside the military camp, as it would cause an adverse impression. Thus, Little Kanna had to carry them outside. Neo clasped his hands behind his head and snorted. "It's your little Karen who's having a bout of childishness, not me." Purr looked at Neo. "How about this, fun-seeker? I'll fight you. I feel like I need to adjust to my strength as well." As Purr spoke, a look of anticipation surfaced in her eyes. Last time, she had hardly had her fill of fun. Neo frowned. Purr offered comforting words: "Don't worry, fun-seeker, I'll mind my heat and make sure not to roast you, little bat, to death." Karen said, "I asked first." Purr looked slightly aggrieved, but nodded nonetheless. "Fine. After you finish, let the fun-seeker recover, and once he's healed up, I'll take my turn." *Clap!* Neo slapped his hands together. "Do you family members ever stop to think about how outrageous you are?" Purr shook her head. "We are motivating you. Believe me, fun-seeker, if not for our little Karen, I would consider you the most talented of all." "Right, thanks. Once this bout is over, I'll fight you." "My... how did the fun-seeker become so agreeable today?" Neo leaned down and looked at Purr. "That way, next time I extend an invitation, you won't be able to refuse either." Little Kanna clenched her small fists. "Shall we get going?" Before Little Kanna could transform into a dragon, however, Daina came running over in a hurry. "Legion Commander! An incoming communication from Knight Order Headquarters. Commander Daan is convening a meeting of the Ninth Army Group's commander level." Daina could handle other communications on his behalf, but this meeting was not something she could substitute for. Karen smiled, reached out, and patted Neo's shoulder. "Wait here a moment. I'll go get a promotion first." "Go on, our family's finest little Karen." Purr began clapping her paws, then looked down at Little Kanna beneath her. "Meow meow meow?" Little Kanna immediately began a round of perfunctory applause. "Congratulations, congratulations." Once Karen turned and headed back, Neo dusted off his shoulder while mimicking Karen's earlier tone in a pinched voice: "'Wait here a moment. I'll go get a promotion first.' Heh, I wonder what the legion's soldiers would think if they saw their commander acting like this." Purr replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world: "You two are friends. Only in front of you can he truly let his guard down—just like Diss drinking tea with Hoffen or meeting with Theisen back in the day." "Don't put it that way. In the end, I'm the one who's out of my league." "Not at all. Don't think I don't know you've been taking Kevin into your tent to sleep with you lately." "That's because I've been researching theological historical texts." "You were provoked and want to seek more radical methods to acquire power." Neo offered no reply. Purr continued, "In the past, you held an attachment to this world for the sake of Miss Eliza. For a time after that, you worried Karen would stumble without your guidance and protection. "Now, seeing Karen continue to grow, you feel he will do just fine without you. "So you intend to put those concerns aside and pursue raw power for its own sake—even if it means losing yourself in the process, you no longer care." "Is our Lord Raneidar really such a gossip?" "I didn't ask him. I didn't need to. I can guess, and I can see it. If it were anyone else, I would tell him to stop and avoid reckless paths. But since it's you..." "Since it's me, what?" "Go for it, fun-seeker! I believe that even if you played Russian roulette with a revolver fully loaded with live rounds, the first shot you fired at your own temple would still be a blank!" "Is that supposed to be a blessing?" "It is an acknowledgment. Our little Karen had Diss paving his path, early guidance from me and Kevin, countless elders looking upon him with favor, and even the protection and heritage of Order. "I would never question our little Karen's excellence, but it is undeniable that he possesses far greater advantages and resources than you ever did. "Whereas you... "All this time, you have relied entirely on yourself. Fun-seeker, you truly are remarkable, and I admire you greatly, meow..." Hearing those words, Neo looked visibly placated. Purr added, "Just like the stupid dog back then. He had nothing to rely on either, yet he rose from a boy in a fishing village to tread the path of godhood. I believe what the stupid dog achieved yesterday is what awaits you tomorrow, fun-seeker." Neo: "..." ... Karen entered the communications room. Aside from Daina, everyone else had stepped outside. After Daina helped calibrate the communication array, Karen stepped into its perimeter and took a seat. Soon, as the array activated, Karen found himself seated before an ethereal round table. Surrounding the table, the spectral figures of Pilger and the commanders of the other three militia regiments materialized. Finally, Daan's form came into focus. Karen and the others rose to their feet and said in unison, "My Lord!" Daan produced two official notices and spoke without preamble: "I will now announce a disciplinary decision. Commander of the Ninth Army Group and Commander of the 12th Regular Regiment, Pilger, exhibited deficient command during combat operations, resulting in severe casualties and losses. Consequently, Headquarters no longer deems him capable of serving in his current capacities. He is hereby relieved of his duties as Commander of the Ninth Army Group and Commander of the 12th Regular Regiment. Command of the 12th Regular Regiment shall temporarily fall to the deputy commander." Hearing this sanction, Pilger showed little surprise. He merely cast a glance at Karen—not with resentment, but with a touch of helplessness. He had thought Karen might put in a good word on his behalf. Even if the post of army group commander could not be saved, perhaps he could at least retain his regiment command. Evidently, Karen had done no such thing; in all likelihood, he had expressed severe dissatisfaction with Pilger's presence instead. And that was indeed the case. Karen had no desire to keep Pilger in this army group. The man's temperament made him unfit to serve as a subordinate, and most importantly, Karen had neither the time nor the energy to break him in and manage him. Although combat was still underway, the strategic landscape along this front was already decided. It was merely a question of whether the remaining enemy forces could be devoured smoothly; no further reversals would occur. Relieving Pilger would thus cause minimal disruption. Furthermore, Karen was concerned that if Pilger took the stronghold before him later and earned credit, removing him then would be far less convenient and far less graceful. Daan produced another document. "I will now announce a new appointment: Legion Commander of the Whip of Order, Karen Silva, shall concurrently assume the post of Commander of the Ninth Army Group." With that, Daan nodded to those present and withdrew from the communication. The others remained behind, lingering in the virtual conference room generated by the array. The seat where Pilger had been sitting now displayed a different figure—evidently the acting deputy commander. All four men fixed their gazes upon the newly appointed army group commander. Karen spoke: "It is an honor to work alongside all of you. Before we begin, I would like to make my command philosophy clear. "First, I do not expect you to follow every command I issue unconditionally. Nor will I be as foolish as Pilger, openly opposing and denouncing you. But please ensure that you can achieve monumental victories like the one I secured last time; I am more than happy to wait and share in the glory you bring. If you cannot deliver, however, I will place all responsibility squarely upon your shoulders. You will not only ruin your career, but you will also face reckoning from me and the Whip of Order behind me. "Second, I, Karen Silva, came here to build my credentials, to gild my record, and to secure greater opportunities for advancement after the war. I possess both the confidence and the capability to handle the tactical situation before us with the utmost success. I can guarantee that if you follow me, I will lead you to victory after victory, securing a brighter future for yourselves and your men. We are not friends, but we are... brothers in arms. "Third..." Karen paused, then continued with a faint smile: "There is no third point. Now, let us proceed straight to our operational deployments. My strategy is to lure the enemies out of the four strongholds before us, then seek opportunities to annihilate them in a war of movement. The specific arrangements are as follows..." When the meeting concluded, Karen let out a long breath and rose from his seat. Daina stepped forward with a glass of ice water. The formerly haughty noble lady was now thoroughly docile before Karen. Even if ordered to resume her duties as his personal attendant, Karen felt she would be fully capable of looking after his daily needs. "When you presided over the meeting just now, you were really, truly..." "Very professional?" "Ah, yes, very professional." "I was actually quite nervous myself. Haha, anyway, I have matters to attend to, so I'll be going." "Yes, Legion Commander." After Karen walked out of the communications room, Daina noticed another incoming communication request from Daan. It had not come through the high-priority military channel; usually, Daan only lowered the channel's protocol when calling her in his capacity as her uncle. Daina accepted the call immediately. On the other end, Daan was clad in armor, reviewing documents. After waiting a moment for the connection to stabilize, he set the papers aside, stood up, and said: "The High Priest asked me to inquire after your well-being." Daina stiffened her back at once and replied, "Please inform the High Priest that I am doing very well, Uncle, and please convey my regards for his health." "Mm, very well." With that routine exchange concluded, both Daan and Daina visibly relaxed and sat back down. Daan said, "Daina, what is your impression of your legion commander?" "He is outstanding—exceedingly so. In my eyes, he is very much like you, Uncle." "Oh, like me again? Haha, just how many people does he resemble?" "Uncle?" "I am asking: do you fancy your legion commander? What would you think of having him as your husband?" Daina was startled at first, but then a powerful wave of joy welled up within her heart. Barely suppressing a smile playing on her lips, she shook her head. "Uncle, I have never harbored such thoughts." "Oh, is that so?" Commander Daan, ever sharp at reading enemy movements, nodded. "Well, that's fortunate. The High Priest was originally considering bestowing a marriage, but the Whip-Wielder blocked it." Daina: "..." "Daina, just stay by his side and perform your duties well. Once the war concludes, you can be transferred to the Knight Order." "Yes, Uncle," Daina said, forcing herself to sound composed. "We'll leave it at that, then. Farewell." "Farewell, Uncle." The communication ended. Daina leaned back in her chair, an unavoidable sense of dejection washing over her. She didn't harbor any romantic feelings toward Karen, but undeniably, if Karen were truly arranged to be her husband, she could not find a single reason to refuse. "Aaargh!" Daina ruffled her hair, grabbed the leftover ice water Karen had left behind, and downed it in one gulp. "Phew! Stop thinking about it, back to work!" ... "I saw the young lady's expression go from surprise to disappointment just now," Deputy Commander Salfo said with a chuckle. Daan smiled. "Mm, I saw it too. Young girls can never resist the charm of a handsome young man." "He is indeed handsome, but it's not just looks. If I were a woman, I wouldn't even need to be young again—I'd probably fancy that young man too." "My deputy commander, you are growing less and less mindful of your image." "Haha, I speak the truth. Still, are you feeling disappointed? After all, Daina's nominal adoptive father is the High Priest, but her real foster father is you. I know you truly regard her as your own daughter. So, are you disappointed? You could have had such an exceptional son-in-law—tantamount to half a brilliant son of your own." "What could I do? Foden refused to let him go." "Our Whip-Wielder has no children of his own. It's not as though he could betroth that frost dragon at his side to Karen, could he?" "Foden told the High Priest that Karen is very much like him." "Wait, is he grooming Karen as his successor? No wonder the upper levels have been making such obvious moves lately, throwing all that momentum behind Karen." Daan shook his head. "He doesn't have the qualification to groom a successor. Neither do I. Nor does anyone else." "This..." "The only person who can decide who succeeds our positions is the High Priest. Unless..." "Unless what?" "I'm hungry, Salfo." "Understood." Salfo stood up immediately and left the tent. Daan lowered his head, and in his mind, the words Morindi had once roared at him surfaced again: *The High Priest we follow—he has betrayed the God of Order!* "Huuu..." Daan drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fist, a self-deprecating smile appearing on his face. "He may betray the God of Order, but we... we dare not betray him."